Overcoming an Abusive Childhood

By Andy Polak

My purpose for writing this book is to let anyone who has been, or is currently dealing with being bullied or abuse, to never give up on life. With drive and determination, you can overcome abuse and make something of yourself. No matter what people say, always have faith in yourself. Also, for parents who are wondering where they went wrong with their kids, all you can do is love and support them, no matter how good of a parent you are. It's never a guarantee that your children will have the same love and respect for you in return. "Know it's not your fault."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781635759006

Book preview

1

Childhood

My earliest childhood memories begin at the age of four. I lived in Detroit with my parents and brothers in a modest two-bedroom home on a beautiful tree-lined street. The neighborhood was safe. We never locked our doors at night. Joey, Billy and I shared a small bedroom. We had two twin beds. I took turns sleeping with Billy or Joey, but some nights they’d kick me out of bed and told me to sleep on the floor. When they did, I’d crawl underneath the bed with a blanket and sleep there for the night. My parents both worked full time in a factory. We were a normal happy family. But a few years later, that all changed.

There are times that I look back on my childhood fondly, as most people do. However, for a majority of my childhood, my family suffered endless abuse at the hands of my alcoholic father. The effects of this abuse stayed with us into adulthood. Some of us turned out fine, while others had a much more difficult time.

One of the biggest issues in my childhood was finding enough food to eat. My older brother, Joey, would always try to make sure Billy and I were fed each day. There wasn’t usually much food in our house – some days I would only get a slice of bread or a cookie. Because Mom was working full-time in a factory, Joey was the one who was responsible for taking care of us. Considering he was only Twelve years old, he did a pretty good job.

When there wasn’t any food in the house, Joey would call Aunt Emily, to see if we could come over for lunch. She lived around the block from us and always said yes. While Billy and I were eating lunch, Joey and Aunt Emily would go into the other room to talk. They would speak in whispers but one day I was able to overhear Joey telling Aunt Emily that he was worried about Mom. He told her that she was losing a lot of weight and he was concerned that she was going to become sick because she had not been eating. Aunt Emily asked Joey why she hadn’t been eating.

Joey told her my dad wasn’t giving her any money from his paycheck and for this reason, she couldn’t do any grocery shopping. I recall she was only eating a can of soup for dinner. To help feed my brothers and I with the limited amount of food available in our home, my mother had resorted to starving herself. I was too young to understand. I recall on two different occasions, when there wasn’t a single thing to eat in the house, Mom and I went to the grocery store to buy two cans of soup. But I happened to notice Mom also putting two or three cans of soup in her purse as well. Mom always told me this is wrong. And not to ever do this, but she was desperate, and wanted to make sure we had something to eat.

The next day when Mom came home from work, Aunt Emily was over. She invited us to her house for dinner. After we were done eating, Aunt Emily told us to go out and play because she wanted to have a talk with Mom. I never knew what they talked about. But I remember Mom and Joey carrying a couple of bags of groceries home. When Dad came home that night I, was eating a sandwich. He went into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and asked me where all the food came from. I told him that Aunt Emily had us over for dinner and she gave us some food to bring home. He asked Mom if she was over there crying to her again. She told him Aunt Emily asked Joey if there was food in the house - he told her there wasn’t. My father just replied with, Make me a sandwich to take to work for lunch

Mom began to make two sandwiches. He told her he only wanted one. Mom said, I would like to take a sandwich to work for lunch too.

Dad snarled, My sister gave me the food. Who said you can have any of my food? The next morning, when Mom was getting ready for work, Joey and I were standing in the kitchen. Joey looked in the fridge. He wanted to make sure Dad didn’t take Mom’s sandwich. When he opened the fridge, he was surprised it was still there. He felt better knowing Mom would have something to eat that day.

Lack of food wasn’t the only form of abuse we endured as children. My father also resorted to physical and verbal abuse when he became angry, and it wouldn’t take much to set him off. Once he got mad, he was going to be hitting someone. Sometimes it would be his fists; other times he would use whatever was available around the house.

Growing up I only had one friend. His name was Danny. He lived next door to us. Danny and I played together almost every day. I didn’t have many toys, so Danny would always bring a couple of his toy trucks with him one of our favorite games was to pretend we were in the Army. Danny and I would always dig holes in the dirt to hide our trucks from the enemy. Then we would pretend planes were flying over trying to bomb them, as we were throwing dirt balls at each other pretending they were bombs. When we got bored playing Army we played hide and seek. Danny was good at hiding. I never could find him, but Danny always found me. We’d play outside for hours together. I didn’t have a bicycle at the time, but Danny did, and he always let me ride it. If we were going to the park or to the corner store he rode me on his handlebars. He never left me behind. When his mother called him home to eat lunch, many times she would invite me.

Danny and I always got along great. We were best friends. On one occasion, Danny and I were in the house playing. We were laughing when Dad yelled at us to be quiet because he was watching the news. A little while later, we began laughing again, but this time Dad made Danny go home After Danny left, my father called me in to the kitchen. He said, Didn’t I tell you before about making noise when I’m watching the news? At that moment, I knew I was going to get spanked. I started to cry as he took his belt off and told me to bend over the kitchen table and began spanking me. After hitting me five or six times, Mom yelled at him to stop. But he continued hitting me. She tried to grab the belt out of his hand, because Mom knew when Dad spanked us it was more like a beating than a spanking.

He yelled at Mom for interfering when he’s disciplining me. After that day, I knew not to make a sound or bother him while he was watching the news.

The physical abuse didn’t only take place at home. Occasionally it happened when the family was out in public. When my father felt the urge to put his hands on one of us, he didn’t care where we were or who witnessed his violent behavior. One Friday, my father came home from work and said he was going to take us out for dinner. At the restaurant, I remember we were sitting there and for a change, we were actually enjoying ourselves, Dad got up to use the restroom. Joey said to Mom, Dad seems to be in a good mood today. Before he gets too drunk, why don’t you ask him for some money for the bills and, so you can buy some groceries?

When he came back and sat down, Mom asked him for some grocery money. She explained that we only had bread, butter, and a few cans of soup. He told her there was only $10 left from his paycheck; however, he had just been paid that day. Mom let him know that they were going to shut off the electricity again. It seemed to happen so often. I recall one winter our electric was shut off twice and without electric, we had no heat. That winter seemed to be extremely cold. I recall Mom and I were sitting in the living room. We were freezing. Mom turned the oven on to try and warm up the house, but we were still freezing. Mom wrapped me in blankets. She was doing everything she could, trying to keep me warm.

Dad told Mom, If you need more money for the bills, maybe you should get a second job. Then, he ordered another drink.

Joey told him about how Mom had been going many nights without eating - sometimes for days - just so we would have something to eat. All of the money that she would get from her paycheck would have to go towards paying the bills. Without any warning Dad turned to Joey and slapped him so hard that he flew off his chair. This upset Billy and he ran out of the restaurant. When Joey got up, Mom asked Joey and me to go outside and look for Billy. We were calling for him, but he didn’t answer. Then we heard crying. It was Billy; we found him hiding in the alley behind a dumpster. He was crying hysterically and told Joey, I hate Dad. I’m going to run away. We lived about a mile away from the restaurant. Billy was so upset Joey told him he would walk him home.

Billy said, I’m never going home. I never want to see Dad again. I hate him.

Joey asked him if he wanted to go and stay at Aunt Emily’s house; Billy said yes and asked Joey if he would walk him there. Joey told Billy he would. Joey always put us first. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for us.

Joey wouldn’t let me walk with them. He told me to go back into the restaurant and tell Mom he was going to walk Billy to Aunt Emily’s. When I went back in and sat down, Dad was yelling at Mom. Tears were running down her face she was so embarrassed. People were staring at us. I sat there scared. I didn’t make a sound.

Then Dad looked at me and said, You look like you’re getting fat. You should go a few days without eating and let your mother eat. Don’t you care about your mother? This was one example of the many times that my father abused us physically. And mentally the cuts and bruises would fade over time, but the mental trauma of what we experienced haunted us all for the rest of our lives. When we got home, Mom called Aunt Emily to check on Billy. She told Mom he was fine. Aunt Emily told Mom, I’m coming over. I want to talk to my brother. As soon as she came into the house, she began yelling at Dad. She told him, You have a problem with drinking! Just like our father did. She added, You’re traumatizing your children. The same way our father did to us. She yelled, You better get help for your problem before it’s too late and you lose your family.

He said, I don’t have a problem with drinking. I can drink just fine.

Aunt Emily told him it’s not a joke, but he just laughed.

2

George

My older brother, George, who did not live with us, was lucky enough to not have to deal with my father very often. He would come around when he could. This would provide a reprieve from the daily trials and tribulations of my childhood. Eventually, George and Joey would be the ones who would save us from my father. If it wasn’t for them, I don’t know what we would have done.

George was working with racehorses and traveling around the country. He was good at what he did; on weekends he would visit us if he had the extra time. One weekend, Joey let George know about his concern for our mother. This was still during the time Mom was dwindling away from passing up meals. George said, No one has to worry about eating tonight, we’re all going out for dinner. Also, he let Joey know that before he left tomorrow he would take Mom to the store for some groceries. Mom was always apologizing to George because he used his own money to buy groceries for us. However, George told her he did not care about the money. He only cared about doing what he could for his family. He let Mom know on the weekends he couldn’t come home, he would send her some money.

Mom always let him know that she intended to repay him, but he would have none of that. He saw it as his duty to help us and didn’t expect anything in return.

George and Joey did more for us than my father did when we were kids. Joey was the oldest one living at home and he was the one who was responsible for taking care of us and he always took good care of Billy and me. He was the worrier in the family. He worried about us and our mother constantly. He was the surrogate father who would play baseball or play catch with us after school. He tried to be involved as much as possible, but Joey also had friends he wanted to hang out with. I remember my Aunt Emily telling Mom, Joey has too much responsibility taking care of Andy and Billy. He’s growing up too fast.

My mother was well aware of this – she told Aunt Emily, I’m doing the best I can.

There wasn’t much else that she could do in that situation. We made the best of it and all tried to take care of one another. As the years went on I think it made us all closer, even as adults. We all did what we could for one another.

I recall one Saturday afternoon, Dad came home drunk. Billy, Joey and I were in the backyard playing baseball. Dad sat in a chair watching us